


The Advent of Coffee

by mixtapestar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-27 23:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin's daily visits to Castle Grounds for his coffee fix have become something of a habit, so when everyone else goes home for the semester, he keeps them up. The baristas seem to like him, for the most part, and as Christmas approaches, things start to get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Advent of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [christmasbang](http://christmasbang.livejournal.com). Thanks to L & R for the beta work. Art by [squashbee](http://squashbee.livejournal.com) with a [masterpost here](http://squashbee.livejournal.com/68582.html).

_17 days 'til Christmas_

"Medium peppermint mocha with soy milk and a half-shot of caramel, please. With the milk not too hot, if you can."

Merlin watches warily as the guy punches in his order. Say what you will for the morning staff, at least they've learned to get it right. Usually Merlin just orders and hopes for the best, his nose in a book most of the time he's here, but now that school's out he finds he has time to nitpick his order.

The cashier - Lance, according to his name tag - smiles up at him, that same amused smile Merlin's so used to seeing just before he gets a cup of coffee he has to suffer through. He tries not to worry.

"Oh, hey!" Lance says, his smile appearing more genuine. Merlin can sense his order already being forgotten. "You're a friend of Gwen's!"

"Er," Merlin starts. It's always awkward being recognized when you don't know the other guy. "Yes?"

"It's Mark, right? We were in intro psych together. My hair was longer then," he adds, gesturing to his head. "Just had it cut."

It takes Merlin a long moment to realize that the first question isn't a random selection of words, but rather that the guy thinks his name is Mark. It takes a few seconds, but then he remembers the guy with the long hair and charming smile, putting it together with the one he's receiving now. "Right! You sat in the back. Kept quiet during class but had plenty to say in your end of term presentation."

"You paid attention to that?" Lance says, looking pleased. "I dunno, I wasn't too confident in my knowledge of psychology, but I really liked my presentation topic. I think you and the professor must've been the only ones who listened, though."

Merlin gives a half-nod. Most of the class had seemed asleep for most of the semester, but, "Gwen was impressed with it, too. She really liked your stance on rationalism and how it factors into our obsessions."

"Did she?" Lance says, his eyes lighting up. "I wish I had her brilliance. She had some great ideas about game theory and how we make decisions."

Merlin does his best to hide his amusement. This is certainly a crush he hadn't predicted. He can't remember Lance ever speaking more than a sentence or two to Gwen, and yet here he is, talking her up as if she's a princess. "I'll take your word for it. The class was more of a basic requirement for me, I'm afraid." He pulls his latest paperback out of the side of his bag and waves it as if it were a flag. "English major."

"Right, yeah." Lance pauses and looks around as if someone else is going to appear. "So, is Gwen...?"

"Gone home on break, just like everyone else I know, I'm afraid. Been knocking about on my own, you know." Lance nods, clearly not getting it. "Filling the time... Getting coffee..."

"Oh! Right, sorry." He looks back down at the register nervously.

"Maybe I should start over?"

"Please do," he says with a smile, so Merlin does. In the end, his drink is satisfactory. He figures after a few nights of repeat visits it might even be right.

Lance's coworker stumbles in from the back just as Merlin's taking his second sip, mumbling apologies for taking so long. His hair is long enough to rival Lance's former style, Merlin notes.

The shop is dead, probably a result of the late hour and everyone off on break, so Merlin sees no point in staying. He tilts his cup toward Lance as a silent thank you and drops a note in the tip jar. It isn't until Lance says, "Thanks, Mark!" to his back that Merlin realizes he never corrected him. He sighs into his cup. It's gonna be a long break.

******

 _16 days 'til Christmas_

The next night, Lance greets him warmly but seems awfully distracted, and Merlin recognizes the muscly guy making his drink from his other nightly visits. Lance has barely handed him his change before running off to the back, which saves Merlin the task of small talk. The other barista tells Merlin he'll bring his drink out in a moment, so Merlin settles in to read for a bit.

"You're becoming something of a regular customer," the barista says as he brings him his drink. Merlin's eyebrows shoot up as he accepts the cup, and the guy - 'Percival' - takes the seat opposite him. "I've seen you just about every night this month."

After a small sip to test the temperature, Merlin takes a larger sip and is pleased to discover that it's been done right once again. "What can I say? You guys get it right," Merlin responds, smiling. He stares at the name tag for a moment before his curiosity gets too strong. "I have to say, I don't think I've ever met a Percival before."

"Oh," Percival says, laughing as he tilts up the name tag, as if he's forgotten his name. "Yeah, the owner's a bit of a medieval history nut. He's encouraged us all to go by nicknames befitting the era. I suppose it fits, you know, with Castle Grounds."

Merlin raises his eyebrows. "Isn't that a bit..." he struggles to find a nicer word than 'unnecessary', "extravagant?"

"Oh, it's all in good fun. I answer to Percival just as easily as my real name these days. It's Jeff, by the way, but that's just between you and me," he says, leaning close and finishing off his statement with a wink.

Merlin blinks in surprise, a laugh escaping his lips. He's never too good at reading these things, but he's pretty sure 'Jeff' is flirting with him. "I've been coming in here regularly for months now, and I never even noticed."

"Technically it's optional," Percival says with a shrug. "And some of us have variations - Lance is short for Lancelot," he indicates, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the register where Lance would normally be standing.

It's clever, if a bit odd, and a much better type of change than the last owner had made. "Now that I think of it, I suppose I have noticed. I have an 'Arthur' who serves me coffee most mornings." He feels his face heat up as he mutters the words. He hadn't meant it that way, but Arthur most certainly isn't his to have. Nor does he want him.

"Ah, well that would be accurate, actually. Arthur's the owner's son."

Merlin chokes on his coffee. "Well, that certainly explains a lot," Merlin says when he gets his voice back, thinking of Arthur's indignation every time Merlin offered a suggestion to improve the place. "Have you been working here long?"

"About six months," Percival answers, then launches into a story about the transition between owners that Merlin listens to eagerly. Their conversation goes on long enough that Lance stumbles back in, looking harried, and all but demands Percival's help locking up.

"Gotta get back to it," Percival says, stretching as he stands. Merlin doesn't miss the movement of his muscles under his shirt as he does so. "It was nice meeting you," he begins, looking at Merlin expectantly for his name.

The implication catches Merlin off-guard, especially with Lance watching them impatiently from behind the counter. He'll feel like a tool if Lance finds out after the fact that his name isn't even close to Mark, but he doesn't really want to _lie_.

The pause is long enough that Percival takes it as a brush-off, nodding and walking off before Merlin can answer. "Nice meeting you, too!" he shouts half-heartedly across the room, feeling like a tool. The guy was hot; if he hadn't been so horribly awkward he might have asked for his number.

He drains the rest of his coffee and heads out, knowing Lance wants to close up early and telling himself that's the reason. He's definitely not running from his embarrassment.

******

 _15 days 'til Christmas_

"--and then after all that, he gave me the brush-off. Wouldn't even give me his name."

"What, the guy from last night?" Lance asks, cleaning out the display case to prepare for his shift. "That was Mark. I had class with him last term."

"The hipster brunette from the other night?" Gwaine says, suddenly interested. He gives Percival the once over, and Arthur has to roll his eyes before looking away. He knows what's coming. "Pity. You seem to have lost your touch, mate."

"Yeah? I'd like to see you do better," Percival quips, standing up to his full height.

"Alright, alright," Arthur says, breaking it up before they have to pull out the measuring tape. "I'm sure the entire local population would queue out the door to date you both if given the chance, now is this a shift change or not? Because if you're all sticking around, I'm still only paying two of you, and it might not be the two you think."

"He's just bitter because his recipe for snickerdoodles didn't go over as well as he'd hoped," Leon says in a stage whisper, earning him a swat of Arthur's apron as soon as it's off. He grins and ducks out of the way, unrepentant.

"If our customers don't have a proper appreciation for that perfect balance of cinnamon and vanilla, that's hardly my fault."

"Good lord, I thought you were joking," Gwaine says, presenting his ass to Percival in what is apparently a silent invitation to tie his apron before a quick grope. Arthur pretends not to notice; this place would be an HR nightmare if they had such a thing.

"It's not the cookies. It's this know-it-all-- _idiot_ we get in here every day. It's like I can't do anything without him offering suggestions."

"He also has the unfortunate habit of being right most of the time," Leon puts in, leaning away just as Arthur reacts.

"You'd better be glad I need you to cover Elyan's shifts this week, or I might have to _fire you_ ," Arthur threatens. Leon waves him off over his shoulder as he slips into the back.

"Heads up, Triple-Shot Tom at 3 o'clock," Percival mutters, turning on his heel to leave the rest of them to the wolves.

As Gwaine goes to unlock the door, Arthur grits his teeth and musters up a smile. He should have dove into the back while he had a chance. "Afternoon, Tom."

"Arthur," Tom says politely before giving his order, his wide eyes never looking away from the display of pastries.

A painful five minutes later, the bell announces Tom's departure, and Arthur feels more than ready to head home.

"I can't believe you used to date him," Percival says, coming out after checking that the coast is clear.

Lancelot favors Arthur with that look he knows so well: equal parts worried and patronizing. "Why is everyone you date either a creep or a jerk?"

"Or both," Gwaine pitches in.

Arthur sighs, deciding to cut them off before they can take it any further. "He seemed perfectly normal when he asked me out. How was I to know he was only in it for the free coffee?"

"At least he tips well," Gwaine says dismissively, and thankfully that's the end of the conversation.

"Are you two good for the night? I'm going to head out. If I don't find a present for Morgan and get it under the tree soon, she's likely to murder me in my sleep."

"I thought you were just getting her a gift card."

"I thought so too, until her boyfriend dared to ask her where he should buy one for her, and then I had to endure an hour-long rant about how inconsiderate he'd become."

"Families, man," Leon says sympathetically, clasping a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"I think we've got it covered," Lance answers belatedly, giving Arthur a nod. Arthur nods back; he can always trust Lance to be the responsible one.

"Don't burn the place down," Arthur says to Gwaine, then heads out into the cold.

*

"Mark!" someone announces happily as Merlin enters the coffee shop at his now-usual nightly time of 11 PM. He recognizes the guy in question from a couple nights ago. His hair looks even shinier up close. "You're probably wondering how I know your name."

"Lance told you."

"It's because I have _magic_ ," the guy goes on, undeterred. Fortunately, Merlin doesn't need magic to read his name tag - Gwaine.

"That's kind of ironic, actually," Merlin starts, intending to explain his actual name, but Gwaine is too fast for him.

"Why, because I've cast a spell over you? Don't worry, I only use my powers for good."

He follows up with a wink and Merlin nearly needs to pinch himself to believe this guy's for real.

"Jesus, Gwaine, lay it on a little thicker," Lance mumbles, shooting Merlin a sympathetic look.

"Hang on. Gwaine? Is that supposed to be like Gawain?"

"The greatest knight," Gwaine says, looking proud of himself. "I chose the spelling myself. Keeps things interesting."

"Are you going to take his order, or just flirt with him until closing?" Lance finally prompts, and Merlin has to laugh.

"Can't I do both?"

"You are unbelievable," Merlin splutters. He's unused to this much attention.

  
  
art by [squashbee](http://squashbee.livejournal.com)   


"See?" Gwaine says to Lance. "He likes it."

"I didn't say that," Merlin defends.

"You're skeptical. I can respect that. Tell you what, I'll just put my number on this cup, then fill it with coffee, and what you do with it is your choice."

"Can I tell you what coffee to put in it, maybe?"

Gwaine smiles. "Deal."

******

 _12 days 'til Christmas_

Arthur has seen many things in his life, but there is nothing quite so mind-numbing as watching a conversation between Gwaine and Percival. It's like watching a tennis match where the players stand still but the ball jumps to a completely different topic mid-way. He's pretty sure they started out talking about whether it was going to snow over the weekend, but now...

"I've done everything," Gwaine says in disbelief. "Gave him my number..."

Percival looks equally surprised. "I told him I was free Friday..."

"Hair toss..."

"Sleeveless shirt..."

"I don't get it."

"Maybe he has a boyfriend."

"Maybe he's straight," Leon suggests, earning him a prompt and confident, "He's not," from both of them.

"Okay," Arthur interjects, feeling this may have gone too far. "I thought this would go without saying, but I would appreciate if you two wouldn't scare off a loyal customer by having a bet over which one can score with him first."

"It's not a bet," Gwaine says at the same time Percival defends, "We're not trying to score."

"Hang on," Percival says, standing up straight. "Were _you_ trying to score?"

Gwaine shrugs. "He stuck around 'til closing last night. If he happens to invite me back to his, who am I to say no?"

Percival crushes the coffee cup he'd just picked up, though Arthur seems to be the only one to notice. He puts a placating hand on Percival's arm and says, "Alright, seriously. Enough is enough, you two. Am I gonna have to lift the ban on you working together and make it so that you _have_ to?"

"What are you talking about?" Percival asks, bewildered.

"Shh, I'm all for bans being lifted."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Just sort it out."

"Hey, Arthur?" Lance says, setting out the pastries. "Since when do we make cinnamon buns?"

Leon hisses as if he's been burned. "Probably should've avoided bringing that up, mate."

Arthur gives them both a dark look. "They just so happen to be a high-selling item," he explains. "The fact that we have them now has nothing to do with the idiot who kept _insisting_ that it might be a high-selling item to the point of nearly getting himself thrown out."

"You really should give the guy more credit," Leon says. "He's actually been quite helpful."

"I think I'd like to meet this so-called nuisance," Gwaine says, stealing one of the cinnamon buns before Lance can put it in the display case. Arthur narrows his eyes and wonders if he should take it out of his paycheck. "Keep him around for when Arthur gets particularly dictator-like."

Leon laughs. "He comes in long before you're out of bed, I'm afraid."

"Shame," Gwaine says, looking disappointed for a moment before moving on. "Saw your ex yesterday," he says, smiling cheekily at Arthur.

"Speaking of nuisances," Lance mutters.

"You see Tom every day," Arthur says dismissively.

"No, not him, the one from the modeling place. Rock?"

"Stone," Arthur says darkly.

"You dated someone named _Stone_?"

"It's his last name. He thinks it's a better modeling name."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing."

"Yeah, maybe he's a Stone's throw from a decent model."

Gwaine laughs and adds, "Maybe they don't like him because he looks too Stoned."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Look, can we please stop insulting my ex-boyfriends? Your puns are terrible, and I'd really rather my private life be private."

Leon and Percival look apologetic, but Gwaine, not so much. "It's your own fault for dating complete arseholes."

"Yes, thank you, Gwaine. You're clearly an expert on relationships," Arthur quips, gesturing at Percival. Both of them look confused at the gesture and promptly forget they saw it. Arthur doesn't know why he tries.

"I'm leaving now before I can be properly insulted. Lance, you're in charge."

******

 _11 days 'til Christmas_

"Mark, I'm afraid I have terrible news," Gwaine announces before Merlin even gets to the counter. He's smiling like they've skipped ahead to Christmas, though, so Merlin doesn't take him too seriously.

"You're out of peppermint syrup," Merlin says, sounding as worried as he can.

"No."

Merlin smiles, picking up a coffee stirrer and twirling it between his fingers. "Then give me the news, I can handle it."

"As it so happens," he says, looking around shiftily and then leaning in close to whisper, "I'm no longer single."

"Is it a secret?" Merlin whispers back, a smile playing on his lips. Lance is looking at the two of them as if they're crazy, so Merlin shoots him a mock glare and turns his back.

Gwaine stands up straight, putting his hand on his heart. "You're putting on a brave front for me, that's so touching. But it's not going to work; Percival and I are together and even your devastation will not sway me."

"Right, of course. How will I ever go on," Merlin says without inflection. He hears Lance chuckle from the other end of the bar. "So Percival, yeah? I didn't know you two were..."

"Long time friends, first time lovers," Gwaine finishes for him, waggling his eyebrows, and Merlin can't decide if that's too much information or not. It's hard to tell with Gwaine.

"Hey, I'm happy for you, mate," Merlin says, and he means it. The slight disappointment he feels has nothing to do with Gwaine or Percival and more to do with the fact that being flirted with every night made him feel pretty good about himself. Though given the way Gwaine's acting now, the usual flirtation may not actually stop. "Tell you what, make my drink and you can tell me all about it."

"Already on it," Lance calls from across the bar. Merlin smiles and tells Gwaine, "You can still tell me about it, but my tip goes to him."

Thirty minutes later, Merlin's coffee is nearly gone and his side hurts from laughing. If nothing else, Gwaine knows how to tell a story.

"So I'd like to make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?" Merlin says, turning his cup loosely in his hand. It seems oddly quiet now that he's stopped laughing.

He sees Gwaine share a look with Lance and tries not to start worrying. "I'd like to set you up with someone."

Merlin arches an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Well, his name's Arthur--"

"Whoa, okay," Merlin laughs, "let me stop you right there." Gwaine looks confused, so Merlin elaborates, "We've met."

"Well, then it'll make the blind date a little less blind!" Merlin continues to look skeptical, so Gwaine continues, "Why not?"

"He seems rather stuck on himself." Lance laughs from his position across the room cleaning up a table. "See? Lance agrees with me."

"I'm not involved with this."

"Listen, I know he seems a bit like that at first," Gwaine says, "but once you get to know him, you'll see that he'll do just about anything for the people he cares about."

"I dunno." Merlin chews on his lip and then, catching himself, sticks the coffee stirrer in his mouth to keep himself occupied. "If he's so great, why haven't you gone out with him?"

Gwaine snorts. "Arthur and I've been friends for a while. We've been _drinking buddies_ for a while. Maybe I know just a bit too much."

Merlin's eyebrow shoots up again. "You're making a very compelling argument here."

Another laugh before Gwaine admits, "Okay, maybe he knows too much about _me_ ," and Merlin laughs just as he's swallowing, which is never a good combination. Once it seems clear he's not dying, Gwaine continues, "The truth is that Arthur's a great guy, but he's notoriously bad at finding the right people to date, and there's also the unfortunate fact that he's my boss. My type of guy is a bit more of a follower than a leader, but I think you two would hit it off." He gestures at Merlin's book. "You do have the same weird taste in literature."

That one really does hit Merlin out of nowhere. Arthur's seen him reading time and time again. Why hasn't he said anything? Maybe Gwaine is right; maybe this date would be a chance at something.

Not to mention the fact that every morning Merlin leaves the coffee shop with a peppermint mocha latte and a smile on his face, even if he's just spent the last 5 to 15 minutes bickering with Arthur. He could never quite determine if they were flirting or actually bickering, and even though he'd walked away annoyed more than a few times, he'd always looked forward to going back. And on the days he managed to get a real smile from Arthur...

"Alright, I'll do it," Merlin reluctantly says, then has to fight to speak over Gwaine cheering, " _but_ I have a condition."

Gwaine leans forward. "I'm listening."

******

 _9 days 'til Christmas_

Arthur looks around the diner once again and is filled with regret. He has no idea why he agreed to this. If the guys hadn't ganged up on him, he could have easily turned down the date, and then he wouldn't be sitting here with his stupid yellow flower waiting for this 'Mark' guy to show up. Then, to make matters worse, Arthur sees one of his regular and most annoying customers walk into the restaurant.

"What are you doing here, _Merlin_?" he says with a scoff as soon as Merlin walks by.

Merlin turns to him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I'm," he starts, and then his eyes fall on the flower, "interrupting something, apparently. Hot date?"

Arthur wants to smack the shit-eating grin off his face, so he talks up his date, a man who he actually knows nothing about. But Merlin doesn't need to know that.

Merlin nods along, humoring him, but Arthur can see the amusement he's barely bothering to hide. "It's," Merlin begins, checking his watch, "7:15 now. What time is he supposed to meet you?"

Arthur endeavors not to grind his teeth. "7: _16_ , so if you don't mind?"

Merlin quirks his lips, and it would almost be endearing if it wasn't at Arthur's expense. "Of course. Wouldn't want to get in the way."

Arthur watches him go and almost calls him back. Mark is already 15 minutes late, and despite Merlin's attitude there's never a dull moment with him. He's even started tipping during his daily visits to the coffee shop.

Still, he lets him go. It wouldn't do to have his date show up and mistake Merlin for a replacement. Of course now that leaves him with Merlin seated a few booths away, a ready witness for if and when Arthur gets stood up, which is almost as bad. Arthur pulls out his phone and tries not to think about it. He'll play a few rounds of Angry Birds and then ask for the check if the guy doesn't show.

After a particularly gruesome loss, Arthur makes a frustrated noise and glances up to catch Merlin watching him. His quick glance away only makes it worse. Arthur doesn't need to be pitied, least of all by him. Ever since Merlin first came into the shop, he's been sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, and it seems he can't come in these days without pointing out something he would change. Arthur can remember one time in particular...

>   
> _"And I think you'd do better to put just a bit more milk in the lattes."_
> 
>  _"Is there anything else?" Arthur says, trying not to give a bad impression to the other customers, but still making a point of being annoyed._
> 
>  _"What? Your sign says you take suggestions."_
> 
>  _"Yes, on the _cards_. The cards _in front of the sign_."_
> 
>  _Merlin traces the chain to its connected pen, then holds the tip of it against his mouth as he contemplates what to write. When Arthur catches himself staring, he tells himself it's just because he's appalled at how unsanitary the action is. Merlin turns a card over and writes something in large letters before handing it over to Arthur and giving him a pointed look._
> 
>  _Arthur reads the blocky letters: 'MORE MILK'. He purses his lips and looks up to glare at Merlin, but he's already hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup and backing away._
> 
>  _Arthur's eyes follow him until he's out the door, the bell dinging his departure._
> 
>  _"Arthur?" Leon says, annoyance in his tone. Arthur snaps out of it and looks over at the unfilled orders Leon is looking at pointedly._
> 
>  _"Right, sorry," Arthur says, shaking it off and reaching for the next cup. Leon mercifully lets it go, and Arthur curses Merlin again, this time for distracting him._

Arthur snaps out of it when his waiter brings him a glass of water he didn't order. "What's this?"

"Um, the guy over there asked me to bring it, maybe for the flower?"

Arthur looks across at Merlin, who has by now gone back to his book. He puts the flower in the water and nods at the waiter in silent thanks, watching Merlin for a moment. He does actually seem to be reading, rather than faking, which for some reason helps Arthur make his decision. He leaves the flower and goes to join Merlin at his table.

"So I've come to the conclusion that you have a pathological need to be helpful." Merlin glances up at him, his eyes widening in surprise as if he hadn't expected Arthur to be standing there. "To the point of annoyance, I might add."

"What?" Merlin says, and pulls the earbuds Arthur had missed free from his ears.

Arthur sighs and sits down across from Merlin. "Is that for a class, then?" Arthur asks, gesturing to Merlin's book.

"This? No," Merlin says with a laugh. "Sedaris is more comedic than academic."

Arthur thinks back to last Christmas when he'd read the same book and remembers the style of the stories. "I dunno, I think his unique style of storytelling could be explored in comparison with other forms of epistolary writing, and how framing it within a story might draw out different reactions." Merlin's mouth quirks up, and Arthur doesn't think it immodest to say he looks impressed. "I'm not all lattes and cappuccinos, you know."

"Apparently not," Merlin says, putting the book aside. "Still, of all the possibilities in the world, I wouldn't have pegged you for a literary analyst."

"I minored in English," Arthur says with a smile, "despite the protests of my family. It may not have made a big difference in my career, but I enjoyed it."

Merlin seems fascinated with this information and promptly launches into a discussion of modern day literature. Arthur keeps waiting for him to point out that Arthur was stood up, but it never comes into play. The waiter figures out he's moved and takes his order, and nobody says a word about it.

Arthur almost forgets until the waiter walks by and deposits the cup of water with the flower sticking out of it at the end of the table. "Oh, you can chuck that in the bin."

"What?" Merlin says. "Why would you do that?"

"Well, there's hardly any point now. It'll die in a day or two anyway."

"I'll take it."

"No, you won't."

"Why not?"

"It wasn't for you."

"You were going to chuck it in the bin!"

The waiter gives up on them, and Arthur can hardly blame him. Merlin reaches out to snatch the glass before Arthur can react, then places it on his side of the table out of Arthur's reach.

Arthur decides to let it go. "You know, you're supposed to take the scarf off once you're indoors."

Merlin laughs. "Sure you are. And I suppose boots are only meant to be worn in the snow?"

Arthur rolls his eyes and mutters something about fashion being a dead art. Merlin smirks and draws his straw into his mouth, glancing up at just the right moment to catch Arthur staring.

Arthur clears his throat, prepared to change the subject, but that's when their food arrives.

Things feel a bit less forced once Arthur's got some food in him, and he's able to continue the conversation with relative ease. He's surprised to learn of Merlin's interest in football, and a good portion of the meal is spent arguing over the best team.

Once the bill is paid and Arthur is finally able to convince Merlin to leave the stupid cliché yellow flower, Merlin talks Arthur into a pint at a local pub. He discovers how dreadful Merlin is at darts and hints that he might be able to help him improve with some additional practice.

By the end of the night, Arthur's feeling a nice warm buzz and is generally pretty happy about being stood up by Mark. Before they go their separate ways, Arthur says, "I suppose I'll have to see you tomorrow at the usual time."

"I suppose I'll have to deal with you again if I want my coffee fix."

Arthur cuffs him on the shoulder and says, "Goodnight, Merlin."

As he walks back in the direction of his apartment, the cold air not seeming to affect him as strongly as usual, Arthur thinks back to his usual interactions with Merlin. Somehow they always turn out with Arthur looking the fool. He recalls the aftermath of what he privately calls 'The Milk Incident', still cringing when he thinks of it.

>   
> _"No peppermint yet?"_
> 
>  _"As I said, November 1, and not a day sooner."_
> 
>  _Merlin shrugs. "In that case I'll have a white chocolate mocha, soy milk, warm not hot."_
> 
>  _Arthur has Elyan take over on the register as he makes the drink, and when he hands it over, he fights not to watch Merlin's reaction as he tastes it for the first time. It's a battle he loses, but he glances away quickly when he sees Merlin's eyebrow arch up and a tilt of his head back in Arthur's direction. He busies himself with the next order, though he doesn't fail to notice Merlin hanging about instead of leaving as usual._
> 
>  _He puts up a caramel latte and then an iced chai and is about to say something to Merlin about loitering, but then the orderer of the caramel latte - a woman in her mid-thirties who looks a bit harried - approaches him at the bar. "I just wanted to say, I've been coming here for months, and I don't know what it is you did different, but this is the best latte I've ever had."_
> 
>  _Arthur blinks in surprise, his gratitude ready on his lips, but then he catches a sound from her left. He narrows his eyes at Merlin, who he's fairly sure has just snorted into his coffee cup, and accuses, "Did he put you up to this?"_
> 
>  _The woman looks bewildered, glancing at Merlin in confusion before stumbling over her words in reply, "No, I... Weren't... weren't you the one who made this? I didn't, um..."_
> 
>  _Arthur realizes his error too late, quickly cutting her off with an apology and a sincere thank you for her business. He's ready to offer her a free drink or two if he has to, but she seems content with his apology, if not a little put out._
> 
>  _Merlin at least has the decency to wait until she's left the shop to burst out laughing. Arthur just sends him a look and says, "Shut up."_

Arthur shivers as he rounds the corner to his street and gets hit with a fierce wind. He remembers that business had picked up not long after that incident, and he'd never quite accepted the fact that it might all be because of Merlin's suggestion.

He realizes now, maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it didn't matter that the idea hadn't been his or that his date never showed up tonight or that he'd had an entirely different expectation for his post-college life. He overhears "Last Christmas" playing in his neighbor's apartment as he passes by and thinks, maybe this year he'll finally be content with what he's got.

******

 _7 days 'til Christmas_

Arthur walks the familiar path to Castle Grounds, enjoying the feeling of the crisp December air. At Gwaine and Percival's insistence, he's stopping by the shop right before closing, presumably to meet the guy he was meant to have a date with. He doesn't know what the point is - he's made it clear that nothing's going to happen with Mark. He made the choice not to show up, and now Arthur's moved on. Not that he's with anyone... technically... but he's certainly not going to be coerced into something else right now when there's potential elsewhere.

The bell dings his entrance, and Arthur pauses in the doorway. It takes him a moment to put together the scene before him, Merlin sitting with his medium cup of coffee, laughing and seeming very familiar with Gwaine, someone he wouldn't have met before unless--

The pieces start to fall together even as Merlin and Gwaine turn to look at him. The complete 180 in reaction about how Arthur's night had turned out when he was meant to meet Mark - first Gwaine had been indignant about things not working out, then the next day he wanted to hear all about the night he'd spent with Merlin. It didn't make sense, but now--

"You stood me up," Arthur accuses, striding right up to Merlin. Gwaine quickly makes an excuse and heads back to the register, but Arthur barely pays him any attention.

"I most certainly did not!" Merlin defends.

"Well, you let me believe I'd been stood up," Arthur says. Either way he doesn't appreciate it.

"Oh please," Merlin bites out, standing up to meet Arthur's gaze. "Like you wouldn't have bolted in seconds if you'd known I was meant to be your date."

"Don't be stupid! I... might not have." Arthur swallows.

"You would have, and we both know it." He crosses his arms. "As soon as you spotted me you started scowling."

Arthur stays silent. He probably would have resisted at first, to be honest, but he's learned more now. He knows about Merlin's odd collection of bottle caps, his favorite football teams, how he ducks his head when you've impressed him out of nowhere...

He's certainly not ducking his head now. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Merlin says coldly, throwing out the rest of his drink and pushing past Arthur to the exit. Arthur wants to call him back, but he can't think of anything to say that might fix the situation.

When he turns to meet Gwaine's eye, he sees the look of unimpressed disappointment there. "I don't want to hear it," he warns.

"Neither do I," Gwaine says, tone harsh. Arthur takes a deep breath and leaves the shop before he can take out his anger on his employees. The air that had seemed so refreshing on the way over now feels stifling. He can't get home fast enough.

******

 _6 days 'til Christmas_

"Are you really going to give me the silent treatment for your whole shift?" Arthur says to Gwaine as soon as there's a lull. Usually by this point Gwaine has talked his ear off with stories about the movie he watched last night instead of sleeping and the dog he saw on his walk in to work and this funny thing Mark said last night on his shift. Arthur's stomach twists uncomfortably. He knows why he's being met with stony silence, but that doesn't mean he has to lie down and take it. "I could write you up for this, you know."

"I assure you it won't affect my work," Gwaine says, tone stilted, without meeting Arthur's eyes. He moves away to switch places with Leon.

Arthur sighs. Leon gives him a measuring look that Arthur can read all too well. "Don't tell me you're on his side as well."

"I'm not involved," he says, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "I just don't know that I see your side quite so clearly."

"He made me look a fool," Arthur says.

"From what I hear, you didn't give him too warm a welcome before that."

Arthur busies himself emptying out the tip jar and setting aside the money in the register to distribute during shift change. Maybe he had reacted a bit harshly, but he still doesn't appreciate being lied to. He says as much to Leon, adding, "I was going to apologize to him today, for what it's worth, but he decided not to show up."

"He's probably just avoiding you," Gwaine says from across the bar, revealing he'd been listening in the whole time. "Come in tonight, I'm sure you'll catch him."

Arthur's grateful to have broken the wall of silence, but he expresses his doubt that it will change anything. Gwaine looks ready to argue with him, but a big group comes in just then, and Arthur shifts his focus to getting their orders in.

There's a steady stream of customers after that, a fact for which Arthur is grateful until Triple-Shot Tom shows up amongst them. Gwaine doesn't say anything at the time, but Arthur can sense him itching to say something.

Sure enough, as soon as there's another lull, Gwaine corners him. "You dated Triple-Shot Tom for _two months_ but you still don't think Mark-- _Merlin_ is worth your time because he didn't stand for your abuse?"

Arthur rolls his eyes. "There's more to it than that."

"You seemed pretty happy in the couple of days before you realized he and Mark were one and the same," Leon points out.

"I thought you weren't involved."

"Just an observation," Leon says off-hand as he smiles at the customer that just walked in. Arthur shoots Gwaine a look that says they'll talk about this later.

'Later' turns out to be the half-hour they're closed between shifts, and Arthur almost wishes he'd let Gwaine get into it in front of customers, because now he's got Percival and Lance ganging up on him as well.

"Forget the supposed betrayal for a minute," Gwaine says, "and just think about the date you did have. Did you enjoy it?" Arthur nods, reluctantly. "Were you thinking of asking him out again?"

"Look, you all can't just decide who I'm dating and when--"

"Answer the question," Lance says, speaking up for the first time since he took the blame for giving them all the wrong name.

Arthur purses his lips and thinks about his answer as he meets Lance's gaze. He finds he can't lie to Lance. "I suppose, maybe."

"Then show up tonight. Just talk to him," Lance says, as if it's final. Arthur is tired of arguing, and it's honestly bothering him that Merlin didn't show up for his usual latte, so he nods. Why not?

******

 _4 days 'til Christmas_

"This is ridiculous," Arthur says on the third night in a row waiting for Merlin, setting his book aside and pushing off of the table. "He's not showing up."

Lance shoots him a sympathetic look from behind the register, while Percival just looks sad. "Maybe he'll be in tonight."

The bad part is, the longer Arthur has to think of it, the more he wishes he could change things. He never thought he'd miss that nagging, insistent voice of Merlin's every morning, but the past three days have been so dull without him. No one has reminded him to refill the straws once. It should be a relief, but it's far from it. "Look, I'm staying with my father this week. It's not exactly right down the road. If he does show up, give me a ring. Or just get his number, I don't care."

Percival's face lights up, and that's all the warning Arthur gets before the bell rings and Merlin walks in.

"You look terrible," Arthur says, and Merlin gives him a dark look. It's the only acknowledgement he gets as Merlin strides up to the counter. Arthur exchanges a look with Percival before continuing, "Look, I'm glad you're here. I--"

Merlin holds up his hand to tell him to stop. "I can't do this with you right now."

He nods at Percival, who asks, "The usual?"

"Better make it a large," Merlin says with a sigh.

"There are other places that serve coffee, you know," Lance says, switching out for a large cup and shooting Merlin a look of sympathy.

Arthur looks between them, eyes shifting from Merlin's tired look to the large cup, and he suddenly gets it. He starts beaming and he tells Lance to stop, taking over to make the drink he knows so well.

Merlin leans closer to Percival, looking closely at the keys on the register. "Is there any way you can specify that I don't want any spit in that?"

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," Arthur intones, his marker moving swiftly over the cup. "You should have more faith in me."

He busies himself with the order as Merlin pays Percival, concentrating to make it just how he knows Merlin likes it. When he hands it over with a smile, Merlin looks a bit dubious. Still, he accepts the drink and Arthur is able to relish the content look on his face as he takes his first sip. He catches Arthur's eye and says a hesitant thank you before heading for the door.

Percival shoots him a look of disbelief as Arthur lets him go, but Arthur just smiles. As soon as the door is closed behind him, Lance speaks up. "I don't get it. Why are you smiling?"

"Wait for it," Arthur says. The wait winds up putting them pretty close to closing, probably the amount of time for Merlin to walk back to his place, but sure enough, Arthur's phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He grins cheekily at Lance and Percival before pulling on his coat and stepping outside as he answers, "Hullo, Castle Grounds Peppermint Mocha Extraordinaire speaking."

"You have terrible handwriting," Merlin says. "I called two people in Bristol before I got you."

"Did you?" Arthur says, smiling. "I wouldn't have thought I'd merit three tries."

There's a pause on the other end, but Arthur isn't disheartened in the least. "Your apology, while lacking in length, was at least more legible than the phone number."

Arthur had been careful to phrase his message. _I'll apologize if it means you'll continue to get your coffee fix._ Given his short window of time to come up with it, he was pretty happy with the outcome.

"Though on second thought, it does just look like you're drumming up business."

"What can I say? We treat our most valued customers right at Castle Grounds," Arthur says, ducking into a booth to wait for the next bus.

"I bet you say that to all the customers."

"Nope, just the really special ones."

"Ah, so me and Triple-Shot Tom."

Arthur's mouth goes dry. "You know about Triple-Shot Tom?"

"Gwaine told me."

"Okay, so only the customers with an affinity for quirky modern literature."

"Well, I don't know this Tom. Maybe he too has an affinity for quirky modern literature."

Arthur hums. "Alright, how about... only the ones who annoy the hell out of me but somehow I still want to take them out."

"Oh," Merlin says with a hint of surprise, and Arthur can just imagine him pressing his thumbnail against his bottom lip as he'd done so often at the restaurant. "Well, clearly that can only be me."

"Precisely."

He hears a short laugh from Merlin. "So, what made you so sure I would call?"

Arthur shrugs. "Nothing was certain. But you didn't just avoid our shop, you avoided coffee altogether. That either says something about our coffee or our people, and given that you're always trying to change our coffee, I took a chance."

"I've helped _improve_ your coffee. Maybe I just didn't want to put in the work somewhere else."

"And yet here you are on the phone with me," Arthur quips.

"I'm questioning my sanity, to be sure."

Arthur sees his bus heading down the street and decides to postpone this conversation. "Tell you what, I'll free you from your burden. I've got to catch a bus, but why don't you stop by during shift change tomorrow?"

Merlin makes hesitant noises, but when Arthur offers a free cup of coffee for his trouble, he says, "I'm in."

Arthur laughs. "I suppose I know where your heart truly lies."

"In a caffeine buzz, yes," Merlin says with a laugh.

Arthur says goodbye as he steps onto the bus. "All I Want for Christmas" is playing on the radio, and he sits back and laughs to himself.

******

 _3 days 'til Christmas_

"I can't believe your name is _actually_ Merlin," Percival says, trying in vain to wrestle a cookie away from Gwaine.

Merlin laughs and pops the last crumb into his mouth. Not that Arthur is staring or anything. "I just assumed Lance didn't want you to think I worked here," he teases, grinning cheekily at Arthur.

"I'm fairly sure people already think you work here," Arthur mutters. "You worry more about lids being refilled than the rest of the staff combined."

Lance shoots Arthur a knowing look from where he's moving tables over Merlin's shoulder, but Arthur chooses to ignore it. Merlin doesn't have to know Arthur appreciates his help; it'll only encourage him to be even more annoying.

Gwaine makes an almost-painful screeching sound and Arthur glances over to see Percival tickling him for god-knows-what reason. He's a second away from telling them to knock it off when Merlin leans across the counter, twirls a coffee cup sleeve around his fingers and murmurs, "Now I know why you don't allow them to work together."

Arthur takes a moment to appreciate the proximity before pulling himself together. "You don't know the half of it," he says confidentially. "They haven't been doing," he waves his hand vaguely, " _this_ for long, but it was far worse before, trust me."

Merlin beams, and Arthur finds himself smiling back unprompted. There's a small part of him that just always wants to make Merlin smile.

He only has to put up with about ten more minutes of teasing (on the guys' part) and flirting (on Merlin's part) before he's able to convince Merlin to let him walk him home. There's a bite in the air that feels like snow as they step outside, and Arthur wonders if they'll have another white Christmas. He shoves his hands in his pockets and says, "You know we're closed for three days over Christmas?"

"Yeah," Merlin says hesitantly. "What's your point?"

Arthur shrugs. "I've seen you after three days without coffee. It's not a pretty sight."

Merlin shakes his head. "I've gotten over my tendency to only shop at your place. If you can believe it, the gals down the road at Joe's? Actually get my name right!"

"Wow!" Arthur says, leaning back a bit and feigning awe before his expression turns serious. "No, I don't believe it."

Merlin laughs and his shoulder knocks against Arthur's as they walk.

They continue on in comfortable silence until Arthur smiles and says, "You should let me take you out."

The silence seems heavier this time as Merlin thinks through his response. "Should I, though? I've been thinking of cutting back on things that might be bad for me. Just the big things. You know. Like coffee."

Arthur thinks about this for a minute. They're coming up on campus, which means Merlin's apartment can't be far. Eventually he smiles and simply says, "No."

"No?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Not only are you not giving up coffee, you're not even giving up _my_ coffee. You think you're keeping it well hidden, but you actually love my coffee. Especially at Christmas. This from the guy that asked every day in October when we would be getting in the peppermint flavor, even though the answer was _always_ November 1."

Merlin ducks his head a bit, slowing down. They must be at his apartment. "You remember that?"

"How could I forget the annoyingly persistent customer who only left a tip when I wasn't the one to serve him?"

Merlin starts to shake his head. "That wasn't--"

"So obviously you're a Christmas nut. Which makes it all the more absurd that you're stuck here for the holidays instead of going home where you clearly want to be. And you have the same look on your face when you take your first sip of those peppermint mocha lattes as you do right now, so no, I don't believe you're giving up coffee. And more importantly, you're definitely not giving up _my_ coffee because if they did it right anywhere else then you wouldn't be coming five blocks out of your way to get it twice a day."

Merlin just stares back for a moment, and Arthur starts to feel unnerved.

"What?"

"Nothing, just... I think those are the most sentences I've ever heard you string together."

"Shove off," Arthur says, laughing and pushing at Merlin's shoulders.

Merlin laughs and lets himself be shoved, only halfheartedly swatting Arthur's hands away after the fact. His eyes are still smiling when he says, "You can pick me up at 7 on Friday."

Arthur lets his surprise show on his face, and then the smile takes over. Merlin rolls his eyes and turns to head toward the door to his apartment. He stops for a moment after he pulls out his keys and turns to look back at Arthur.

Arthur isn't sure if he should be walking away already, but he barely has time to feel self-conscious before Merlin yells, "And I wasn't really talking about coffee, you prat."

Arthur considers for a moment, and then realizes the implication. Far too late, he shouts back an insulted, "Hey!"

"Bye Arthur!" Merlin says, waving without looking as the door shuts him in. Arthur rolls his eyes and smiles the whole walk back.

******

 _2 days 'til Christmas_

Merlin doesn't know why he's so nervous. By all accounts, he should have been more nervous about the blind date last week, especially since he turned out to be right about Arthur's reluctance. But no, now it's the real thing and that means there are _expectations_. He shudders and calls Gwen again.

"Didn't we already have this conversation?" she says with a sigh after he's said his piece. "I thought we agreed that he adores you and you've nothing to worry about. Just be yourself!"

" _You_ agreed," Merlin huffs, refusing to acknowledge that the statement makes no sense. "I'm fairly sure it's just an elaborate scheme to embarrass me."

He can practically hear Gwen rolling her eyes. "I'm going to hang up on you. My cousins are arriving and I'm becoming convinced this phone call is just because you want someone to tell you you're pretty."

Merlin laughs. "I am though, right?"

"You're the fairest princess of them all. Stop worrying. You had fun on the last one."

Merlin swallows. The last one hadn't been official. But he can hear Gwen being pounced on by young family members, so he lets it go. "Yeah, alright. Go play football or whatever it is you families do over hols."

"I expect a follow-up call tonight!" she demands before saying goodbye.

He changes clothes three times over the next hour, feeling progressively more ridiculous about it, until Arthur buzzes the door.

His nervousness goes out the door as soon as he opens up to Arthur wearing the most ridiculous Christmas sweater he's ever seen. The laughter escapes before he can think to stop it, but Arthur looks like he expected it.

"Yes, go on, get it over with now."

"No, it's fine," Merlin says, fighting to keep from laughing harder. When he fails, he adds, "I know you said fashion was dead, but this is outright defiant."

Arthur swats at him, a smile threatening to break out. "My sister got it for me. She wouldn't let me leave the house until I'd put it on."

"You know, we've got a campfire area around back," Merlin says, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. In a whisper, he goes on, "We could get rid of the evidence fairly quickly."

Without saying a word, Arthur removes his coat and hands it to Merlin. Before Merlin can comment further, he pulls the sweater over his head, revealing a form-fitting t-shirt and all his muscles underneath. Merlin swallows. On second thought, staring at the huge reindeer on the sweater would probably help him keep his head through the night.

"There, it can't hurt you anymore. Can we go to dinner now?"

Merlin hums in contemplation. "I don't know..." He holds up the sweater then pulls it down as if contemplating the options. "You know what, leave it on. It was an improvement."

Arthur snatches it out of Merlin's hands, muttering about verbal abuse. Merlin grins and fits his messenger bag around his shoulder. Maybe this won't be so bad.

*

Halfway through dinner, Arthur gets the mad idea to run around town and see all the houses decorated for Christmas. "We can get disposable cameras at the store. You seem the type to appreciate film."

"Isn't it a bit cold for that?" Merlin says, skeptical.

"You're dressed for the weather," Arthur says, but Merlin pulls a face and shakes his head. "What do you wear that scarf for then, if it doesn't keep you warm?"

"It's not a scarf, it's a neckerchief," Merlin mutters, pulling at it. He sticks his chin out defiantly. "And it looks good on me."

Arthur stares at him intently as he runs his fingers under the cloth to straighten it out, and at the sight of him licking his lips, Merlin's fingers suddenly feel hot against his neck. "Fair enough. But we're taking the pictures. I won't take no for an answer."

Merlin smiles wryly. "I'm glad to see your stubbornness isn't limited only to the workplace."

It turns out to be a great idea, though, Merlin must admit. Well, he would admit it if Arthur would shut up long enough about how brilliant his idea was. "You obviously love it. You've nearly used up the first camera."

"Well, no one warned me that we would be spending our time outdoors and that what appear to be hideous depictions of holiday cheer were _actually_ a rigorous defense against the cold."

Arthur pretends to think about it. "Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I mentioned that. Maybe you didn't hear me over the ridiculous analogy of myself to coffee. You know, I'm starting to think you have a problem."

Arthur's flash goes off out of nowhere, temporarily blinding Merlin. He's certain Arthur hadn't meant to take a picture. He presses fingers against his eyelids and says, "Sure, I'm the one with the problem."

Once they finish walking through the first neighborhood, Arthur instantly knows a better one a couple of blocks away. Merlin snaps pictures of his favorite houses – usually the ones with a more subdued look – while Arthur seems to have no rhyme or reason to his pictures, even taking a few poorly framed shots of Merlin himself.

Merlin insists on a pint (or two) to help warm them up in between neighborhoods, which ultimately makes it more fun when they get to the next one. This one is smaller, but the residents are much more enthusiastic. Arthur favors the house with the light-up candy cane sidewalk, but Merlin thinks it's a bit much.

As they head down the sidewalk to leave the development, Merlin takes in Arthur's giddy expression and smiles to himself.

"What?" Arthur prompts.

"You can talk up your 'brilliant idea' all you like, but I can see this for what it is," he says, waving the camera about. "You're a Christmas nut, too."

"I am not!" Arthur says with a hint of laughter. "My father doesn't even like to put up a tree."

"Yeah, but I wasn't talking about your father, I was talking about you."

Arthur stays silent, and when Merlin looks over again, his face betrays the truth.

Merlin smirks to himself and moves quickly to snap a picture of Arthur's expression. "Knew it."

Arthur makes an unhappy face, stopping on the corner. "If you weren't enjoying yourself, you could have said."

Merlin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Who said I wasn't enjoying myself?" When Arthur looks dubious, he continues, "I was merely pointing out that your 'wonderful idea' wasn't just for my benefit, as you--"

And then Merlin's cut off because Arthur reaches for his neckerchief and pulls him in, their mouths barely a breath away from each other.

"--keep implying," Merlin finishes weakly, his eyes trained on Arthur's mouth.

Arthur's lips curve up into a smile as Merlin closes the distance between them, kissing him sweetly at first but then quickly escalating as Arthur makes an encouraging noise and angles his body closer. He's just edged his tongue into Arthur's mouth when a car turns in to the development and the lights flicker over them briefly. He pulls away quickly, his face hot. He would prefer not to get escorted home for indecent public behavior.

"Would you look at that?" Arthur says, unfazed by the interruption. His hand is still on Merlin's hip. "I've discovered a way to shut you up."

Merlin stares at him, incredulous, and then gives him a good shove before heading off in the direction they'd been going.

Arthur laughs and follows behind him. "Oh, come on."

Merlin shakes his head, feeling giddy with present events but doing his best to hide it. "Nope. You've ruined it now. The magic's gone." He goes to put his hands in his pockets, but Arthur grabs his wrist before he can get that far.

"Come on, I've saved the best for last."

The 'best' looks just like the other neighborhoods they've seen at first, but Arthur leads him straight back to what looks at first to be a simple gazebo, and then Merlin sees what all the fuss is about. The gazebo is built around a huge pine tree covered in lights, and when he steps inside the gazebo, he sees it's also covered in ornaments.

"Wow," Merlin says as he takes it all in. He moves forward to take a closer look and finds most of the ornaments are homemade. "Where did these all come from?"

"The neighborhood, mostly, but it's become something of an attraction for tourists to come add their own piece," Arthur explains, examining a snowflake that appears to be made out of chopsticks.

Merlin takes his time going around the tree, examining all the little bits that people have contributed. A great deal of them have an inscription of a couple or a child, even as simple as a piece of paper tied to a branch. Memories, each of them, and Merlin instantly knows he wants to be a part of it.

He reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out his copy of _Holidays on Ice_. He can feel Arthur's eyes on him as he flips to an in-between page and rips it from the binding.

"I would've thought a little piece of you would die if anyone did that to a book, let alone yourself."

"Hold this," Merlin says, pushing the page into his hand as he digs for a pen. He ignores Arthur's assumption and, upon finding a pen, scribbles the date and his name onto the page.

"Can I...?" Arthur says, holding his hand out for the pen. Merlin watches him spell out his name just below his own and, after a moment's hesitation, scribble a small plus sign in between. Merlin bites the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling. "There. Now, one of these is bound to have some extra string, or--"

"I think I've got a paperclip in here somewhere," Merlin says, already looking for it. Arthur chuckles and mutters, "Of course you do."

They find an empty place around the right side to hang it up, framing it with the lights so it can be read easily. Merlin smiles and frames the shot carefully before taking a picture.

Arthur leans in to him slightly as he straightens up. "What was that you said about the magic being gone?"

Merlin quirks his mouth upwards and turns a bit more toward Arthur. "It might be back. Marginally."

" _Marginally_?" Arthur repeats, incredulous.

Merlin considers for a second whether he'll look like a fool, but ultimately throws caution to the wind and takes a step forward right into Arthur's space, just as Arthur had done earlier. He nods. "Just a bit."

A smile breaks out on Arthur's face. "I swear, Merlin, just when I think I've got you figured out..."

Merlin smirks. "Can't have you knowing all my secrets."

This time Merlin has no reservations - he captures Arthur's mouth in a fast and thorough kiss that Arthur returns readily. If people are milling about this close to midnight, Merlin figures, let them watch. He can feel his own hesitance, matched by Arthur's own, but then he fits his fingers in Arthur's hair and just takes his mouth, knowing that Arthur wants it as much as he does. Arthur's answering groan proves as much, and Merlin shivers when Arthur's cold fingers find his skin under his shirt. Still, he shifts his body toward the touch and urges him to keep at it.

He pulls back momentarily for air, his body thrumming all over. Arthur rests his forehead against Merlin's and he looks about to say something just as there is a sound like a switch and the tree goes dark. After the moment of shock wears off, both of them burst out laughing simultaneously.

"Must be midnight," Merlin says, content to stand here, even in the dark.

"Yeah," Arthur agrees warmly, but then suddenly stiffens. "Hold on, midnight? Are you sure?"

"Yeah? Why, are you gonna turn into a pumpkin?"

"Christ, I've gotta get home. The bus stops running in like, fifteen minutes."

Merlin can hear the invitation in his mind, _You could just stay over at my place and catch the first bus out in the morning,_ but he bites his tongue. It's not that it's too soon, though maybe it is. It's more that even though he might not have believed it before tonight, now he knows there will be another chance. "Come on, we can make it," Merlin says, leading the charge toward the nearest bus stop.

"I swear, if this had been any other night," Arthur says once they safely reach the stop. "I promised Morgan I'd help with the holiday cooking first thing tomorrow. If she wouldn't kill me for missing out, I'd stay."

Merlin shrugs it off. It's enough that he wants to stay. "There'll be other nights."

Arthur pulls him in for another kiss, and Merlin indulges him for a moment before pulling away. He doesn't exactly fancy a bus full of late-nighters watching him snog someone. He puts a hand on Arthur's awful yet somehow wonderful sweater and says, "Maybe you could stop by sometime over the next few days. That is, if you're free. I won't be able to get my usual coffee fix, after all."

The bus rounds the corner and lights up Arthur's smile. "Maybe I will."

******

 _4 hours 'til Christmas_

Merlin doesn't expect to see or hear from Arthur for at least a day what with all the traditions, so when he gets a text that says _Knock knock_ , he replies _Who's there?_ and keeps on watching Elf on his tiny TV.

It's followed up by a knock on his actual door, though. He pauses the movie and hesitates at the door, telling himself it's probably just a neighbor.

He's happy to be proven wrong, especially when it's not only Arthur but actually Arthur _with coffee_ which he honestly wouldn't have expected. "One of your neighbors let me in," Arthur says by way of hello.

"They'll let anyone in here," Merlin mutters before taking that first perfect sip. It's just as good as it is at the shop. He steps back to let Arthur in. "I hope you know I didn't actually mean coffee, last night."

"Shut up and drink it," Arthur says as he hangs his coat by the door.

Merlin doesn't really have any issues with that, and he's almost not surprised when Arthur moves into his space with what must be a kiss hello. It feels like hello, anyway, in the way that it implies more to come.

"What's this you're watching, then?" Arthur says, taking a spot on the couch.

"Elf." Arthur makes a face expressing dislike. "What, you don't like it?"

"Never seen it. Not much of a Will Ferrell fan myself."

"Well, excuse me, I wasn't exactly prepared for company," Merlin says, nudging Arthur over on the couch to take his usual seat. "I think you should give this one a try."

"Yeah, alright," Arthur says, stealing Merlin's coffee and taking a sip. He makes a face and hands it back immediately. "You've still not sold me on the caramel. It's too much."

"Nobody said you had to like it," Merlin says, pressing rewind and then going to dig through his cupboards. His offers of tea and hot chocolate go unappreciated, as Arthur ultimately asks for water. When he comes back to start the movie, he finds Arthur a bit closer to his side than he'd left him. He fits himself into the space nicely and settles in against Arthur just as the opening credits begin to play.

He lets Arthur recount his day during the slower parts and even chips in with his own stories from years past. Maybe it couldn't happen this year, but he's had his fair share of family Christmases in the past.

"Wasn't it great?" Merlin says as the end credits start to roll.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Arthur admits, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Merlin's neck. Merlin hopes he doesn't want to get up, because that's not going to happen. "Question for you... do you always have to be right about everything?"

Merlin pretends to think about it for a moment. "Only the important things."

"Like the amount of milk in a latte."

Merlin's stomach sinks, just a little, and he feels compelled to say, "Right. Okay, there's something I should probably tell you."

Arthur's fingers pause against his neck, but after a moment, he goes on like nothing's happened. "Alright."

Merlin shifts so he can look Arthur in the eye. "You know the woman who owned the shop just before your father bought it out?"

Arthur nods, an unpleasant look on his face. "Nimueh. She was a bitch."

"To say the least," Merlin agrees readily. "Well, just before her, a few years ago, my uncle owned the shop."

Arthur's eyebrows move upward, and his body language shifts a bit. He seems to be fighting a smile. "Well that certainly explains a lot. I take it you had peppermint flavor year-round."

Merlin's lips quirk into a smile. "I thought you might think it a bit odd."

Arthur shrugs. "You had something of a vested interest." His face scrunches up, an action Merlin wishes he didn't find endearing. "Can't say I blame you."

As Merlin leans in, Arthur's hand moves along his neck to guide him in, their lips fitting together easily.

"Does this admission mean I'll have you out of my hair when we open back up?"

Merlin grins and moves into Arthur's lap. "Never."

THE END


End file.
